August 18, 2010

The Red Sox came back once to tie it at two-all before the fourth inning was over, and two innings later they were engineering yet another comeback from a 5-2 deficit, grinding out at-bats, doing the little things right, and wearing down a clearly demoralized Angels team for a hard-won win number two on this crucial homestand.

Bill Hall redeemed himself for a flub in left field with a homer over everything onto Lansdowne Street in the fourth, and in the fifth Adrian Beltre belted one out to cut the Angels' lead to one. In the sixth, the Sox chipped away, loaded the bases, and scored the tying run on a wild pitch.

The tiebreaking and deciding run that inning also came not from a hit, a homer, a stolen base or a well-placed bunt, but off the ribs of Daniel Nava with the bases still loaded to make it 6-5, Red Sox. In the next frame, Nava would save Daniel Bard's bacon, almost literally by the skin of his teeth, diving onto his right side and scraping his glove along the ground, barely any distance between the web where it landed and the grass where it might've meant defeat.

Thus the razor-thin one-run distance between us and an unpleasant Thursday morning was also preserved, and expanded the next inning with more grinding small ball from the Sox to make the score 7-5. Maybe a bit more nerve-wracking than I would've liked, but all that matters is that letter "W".

***

After Nava's circus catch, Jonathan Papelbon took the mound, his performance the only thing between Red Sox Nation and a sigh of relief.

For him, this has been a markedly inconsistent season. But some perspective on that is warranted tonight -- he became the first reliever ever with 30 or more saves in each of his first five seasons. Literally no one has been more consistent than him over the same period of time. Perhaps it's time to slow our roll in general around here, eh?

Tonight, Paps mowed down the Angels in the ninth with upper-90s heat and a wicked splittah,looking every bit the holder of an all-time reliever record. One silent exchange between him and Victor Martinez sticks with me -- Howie Kendrick was at bat, and Papelbon had already pulled the string on him with the split. V-Mart gestured so clearly for the high cheese I knew at home what he was calling for, with a repeated flash of a single finger inside and up, followed by a flutter of his hand under his own chin. Papelbon responded with precision, and Kedrick swung through it, missing the high heater by a whisper. Strike three. And a beauty to behold.

August 17, 2010

This is it, folks. These are your 2010 Red Sox, for better or for worse. And a mouthy little Elf shall lead them.

Either we exit next week heading in to Tampa Bay the winners of the vast majority of games in this nine-day homestand, or we do it without even a sliver of hope. We're only one game in, but the 6-0 flattening the Sox gave the Angels tonight was all the encouragement you could ask for.

Marco Scutaro had to step out in the bottom of the fifth inning,
having been startled by a sudden wave of applause from the crowd. It
turned out to be from people applauding Pedroia's appearance in the
on-deck circle. That about sums up the excitement level of seeing
Pedroia back in home whites, running out onto the field with his
teammates, stepping out of the dugout ready to hit in the two-hole.

And it does seem like the return of our favorite firecracker was just the jolt this lineup needed, 0-fer though he was tonight. He even turned an unassisted DP in the second, and made a valiant effort to outrun Erick Aybar's cannon-arm, nearly beating the throw to first, after eventually getting up to bat in that fifth inning. All this though he's still noticeably favoring his left foot. Hopefully that'll satisfy those yearning to watch a true blood-and-guts gamer.

Watching the younguns tonight was a welcome distraction from worrying
about the standings. Clay Buchholz isn't exactly new, but we raised him from a pup like so many of the others currently rounding out this roster, and tonight he worked with deadly efficiency. Ryan Kalish delivered a grand slam, the second salami for a Sox callup this season. Not quite as huge as the first, but what could be? And Michael Bowden put on the finishing touches for the youth movement with a one-two-three ninth.

Oh, and Kalish became the youngest player since Tony C. to hit a grand slam for the Red Sox. It gives me goosebumps just to type that.

August 16, 2010

I almost feel like I shouldn't blog right now -- it's better to suppress the urge to rant-blog more often than not, I've found. But at the moment, most of what I have in my head about baseball, especially Red Sox baseball, comes in rant form.

Yes, the idea of the Sox making the playoffs this year is increasingly looking like a pipe dream, especially after two crushing disappointments in Texas. But it's more the reaction to that I've been suppressing a rant about than that fact itself. Specifically, the response that has singled Jacoby Ellsbury out as a scapegoat and continues to hammer him now that he looks to be headed to the DL again.

Since I'm a woman, and therefore it's incumbent upon me to dispel the
assumptions of the Rob Dibbles of the world, I want to state up front
that I do not have a crush on Jacoby Ellsbury. He is not my favorite
player on the team. I can even see a kind of awkwardness about him, an
A-Rodishness that's tough to put my finger on, when he speaks in
interviews. I don't find him particularly compelling either way, except
as a leadoff hitter and baserunner. There, he makes my jaw drop every
time. In that way, I have a similar relationship to him that I did to
Johnny Damon: I'm glad he's on the team, I understand why he's a
favorite, but he's not mine.

That said, I find myself at a loss whenever I consider the aspersions cast on him this year. It just makes no sense to me. After all, if one player can truly be expected to answer for his team's losing season, why not pick on Jonathan Papelbon? He has six blown saves this year, and the Red Sox sit 6.0 games back of the Yankees today. I'm not saying it would be right, but based on the same logic, why isn't it his name we read in the papers every day?

The other thing that has never made sense to me -- and probably never will -- is the number of people paid to sit on their behinds and discuss sports who seem so absolutely certain that Ellsbury could and should be playing right now. His hitting over a handful of rehab games in Pawtucket is what some have cited as an example of his readiness, even though it's been clear he's not up to the Major League level since he's been back. Others seem to have appointed themselves the internal counsel for teammates in the Red Sox clubhouse, taking famous crank Kevin Youkilis's offhand comment about Ellsbury's trip to Arizona and asserting that teammates have also had it with him.

If that's the case, though, I doubt it's because they think he should be playing with broken ribs. Maybe some question his decision to go to API earlier this year and feel he should've stuck with the team. But I've seen nothing from his teammates, directly quoted or anonymously attributed, that insinuates they think he's not that hurt and should be playing.

Of course, the press in the clubhouse will often be told things, or overhear things, that for various reasons they can't report or attribute directly. But ultimately, those reporters also have to answer the question, when it comes to their audience, of "so what?" And when it comes to that, you just can't tell me Ellsbury is the only, or even the biggest, problem with this team this season. It makes absolutely no sense to suggest that the earlier return of one injury-compromised player (believe me, folks, he's still playing hurt, regardless of how much time "off" he's taken) would be the key to turning the season around. That's why it's a freakin' team sport.

See, there I go, getting angry and ranty. But really, when I read the venom about Ellsbury, I often have to double-check that the site I'm on really is about the Red Sox, for Red Sox fans, because more often than not I find myself wondering, "whose side are you on?" Did you not see what happened to him, each time it happened? The kick in the ribcage, the diving catch in center, another collision this most recent time? It's been out there plain to see -- in every instance when he was going hard down a baseline or after a ball -- regardless of whether the original diagnoses and timetable "line up". Yeah, they probably don't line up. Mistakes were obviously made. It's weird, I'll give you that. But I still don't get how it adds up to doubting whether the time on the DL this season has really been necessary, or laying the struggles of the team this season at his feet, or why all this is in any way necessary to a deeper appreciation of the Red Sox.

Ellsbury's treatment this year also doesn't make sense when you look at the injuries his teammates have suffered which haven't gotten nearly the frat-boy blowback. Baseball players go on the DL with blisters, for Pete's sake. How come Jacoby "took himself out" of the game in Texas, but Jed Lowrie "was taken" out with heat exhaustion? See, I don't doubt he really had it, but "heat exhaustion" seems like exactly the kind of condition that would inspire scorn and doubt among the same people hounding Ellsbury, particularly since Lowrie has already spent more time than Jacoby on the DL. And yet I didn't see much reaction at all. Come on, I mean, Youkilis just has a little tweaked muscle in his hand. Why the hell can't he play through that? And 60 days on the DL for Beckett with a stiff back? How was that necessary?

Oh, that's different, you say? How? No, really. How? How is it people can acknowledge their lack of expertise and withhold judgment when it comes to the injuries of everyone else on the team, no matter how apparently minor, but when it comes to Ellsbury, suddenly everyone's a crime scene investigator and licensed radiologist with an intimate knowledge of rib injuries and their healing time?

This has been a frustrating season. There is the urge to cast about for someone or something to blame. That's precisely what makes it so supremely aggravating -- there really isn't any one person to lay this on, though some are obviously trying like hell with Jacoby. But even if this season's biting reportage has been warranted and relevant, at this point, with the playoff picture fading fast, what does it accomplish?

For one thing, clearly if being called out by the chattering classes was going to get Ellsbury back on the field sooner, it would've happened by now.

And for another, given the state of things at this point in 2010, barring a miracle, we should be looking ahead to 2011, and thinking long term. A healthy Ellsbury, as Bleacher Report pointed out in a brilliant essay on this same subject, "add[s] another .005+ average points and a few more
RBI's to the 2-5 hitters, as well as a few more ticks in the win column.
He is that good."

So if you're someone who exists in the sphere of (ostensibly) support surrounding the Red Sox, especially if you're a fan who generally wants the team to do well, next year if not this one, why would you want to run Jacoby out of town for not playing (more) through broken ribs? Why would you not want him, at full health, back on the team as soon as possible, even if that's next year's Spring Training? Why would it be worth giving up his potential future contributions to the team at 100% because he hasn't played at 30%, 40%, 50%?

And yet Allan at Joy of Sox wrote this weekend, in seriousness, "I really wonder if he will play again this season. (And if so, has he played his last game in a Red Sox uniform?)"

I don't think Allan was saying that should be what happens. But I have no doubt there are some who would be content to see Ellsbury traded or even released based on what they think they know about his injury this year. They're entitled to that opinion, of course, but it's one thing to have a difference of opinion on what happened. For the hysteria and suspicion to rise to the point of actually
altering the makeup of the team, and not for the better, would be quite another.

Suffice to say, if Ellsbury is not on the team next year because of this crap...my knee jerk reaction, at least, when I read that part of Allan's post, was to think that such a turn of events would have me seriously re-evaluating my participation in all of this. Yes, I'm taking it that seriously. If what I can expect as a Red Sox fan is to have my enthusiasm for the team parlayed by the cynical into this kind of pointless witch hunt, all to denigrate the character and potentially alter the career of a supremely talented player who has, after all, done nothing wrong...my knee-jerk, if admittedly improbable, reaction is to want to withdraw that participation. I don't want to be a part of that kind of historically entrenched, but nonetheless distasteful behavior, and have been laboring under the delusion (apparently) that championships would dispel it. It's disheartening, to say the least, to see it continue, and now without any real suffering to justify it.

If Allan is correct in asking that question, in other words, to me that means we are on the brink, as a "Nation", of cutting off our nose to spite our face when it comes to Jacoby Ellsbury. And I, for one, want absolutely no part of it. I, for one, don't want to spend another season wondering, whose side are we on?

August 13, 2010

I can think of worse things than an exciting Patriots win (even if it's only preseason) to cheer me up after the Red Sox a) played while I was at work again and b) lost in crotch-kicking fashion to boot.

I'm familiar with the relevant facts about the game the Sox dropped yesterday to finish out their series with the Blue Jays, who apparently had a getaway to make to California and so that's why they played the working world was still on lunch hour. And as I'd feared when I put the words "road" "win" and "streak" together in the same sentence, despite taking a three-run lead into the ninth inning, they wound up snatching a won series from the jaws of a sweep.

Dammit.

I know my erstwhile binky, Jonathan Papelbon, continues this year's slide from "lights out" to "occasionally unreliable" and blew that save yesterday. There is absolutely no excuse for that, but I missed it and sure as hell didn't seek out the "highlights", so I'm just trying to focus on the fact that they won the series and move on.

Luckily, last night, Julian Edelman was there to help.

I'm sure he didn't actually catch every pass Patriots quarterbacks threw last night, but that's what it seemed like. And he continued to earn my father's nickname of "Wes Jr." with his yards after catch, cutting and bumping and slipping through defenders' hands.

The Patriots won by the slimmest of margins: 27-24 as the final seconds ticked down. Getting excited about this would be something like making pennant predictions after the first week of Spring Training, but on its own, just as a contest, this was an exciting spectacle.

Both of Brady's backups, Brian Hoyer and Patriots' 2010 seventh-round draft pick Zac Robinson, acquitted themselves very well -- 2009 undrafted free agent Hoyer was the only Pats QB to crack 100 yards passing on the night, and it was Robinson who drove the third-string offense downfield at the end of the game to set up the game-winning field goal. Losing Tom Brady again would be an utter nightmare, but it's good to know there's at least some depth at the QB position in case the unthinkable happens.

Ditto Edelman, who remains second-fiddle to Welker, but shows he also has a serviceable backup as the team's chief slot receiver. At least as a test of the Patriots' depth (on offense, anyway -- *shakes fist at Darius Butler*), this taste of adrenaline was an exciting start to the most wonderful time of the year, when baseball's still in season, the Patriots are starting up and a New England autumn is just around the corner. Oh, and it's Friday. What's not to like?

P.S. This has been making the rounds, but if you haven't seen the Adrian Beltre Facts, get on it, yo. (Personal favorites: "Adrian Beltre once collided with himself. It was before Game 3 of the 1989 World Series." and "Adrian Beltre pulled a ball to the opposite field.")

August 11, 2010

I don't know what got into Bill Hall tonight in Toronto, but whatever it is, it can stay.

He'd had me concerned at times last weekend in New York, but against the Blue Jays tonight he turned in a superhuman performance: 2 homers, 3 hits, 4 RBI. They would be only part of a 10-1 final score, but his laser show tonight was what first swung the game's momentum Soxward, breaking a 1-1 tie on his homer in the top of the second and tacking on the first two insurance runs with another bomb in the top of the fourth.

In the field, Hall also turned perhaps the two prettiest double plays we've seen this year, the first of which took Popeye levels of arm strength after a throw from Adrian Beltre deep behind third, and the second of which he accomplished singlehandedly, tagging a runner and then firing to Mike Lowell at first base.

Yes, Bill Hall. That will do quite nicely. By all means carry on with that.

In the dugout, the Sox were goofing, with more Beltre / V-Mart horseplay after Beltre hit a second-decker of his own in the top of the fifth. On his side of the innings, Clay Buchholz remained in command on the mound for eight solid, surrendering just one run despite giving up five hits and having difficulty getting his curveball over for strikes throughout the night. As it turned out, the changeup and cutter would amply suffice.

Overall, there was a feeling tonight like everyone had finally taken a deep breath. A certain swagger seemed to be returning in every step. There have been some times, in other seasons, where I might've shut off a
game like this early, the score having pretty much been settled by the
fifth inning. But not this one. Not this year. Not because I thought
they would blow it, necessarily -- because I wanted to soak it in.

I can hardly wrap my mind around it. I almost don't want to say it out
loud...but yes, my friends, the Red Sox have just won three games in a
row on the road. And as superstitiously certain as I am that having made that
statement means the luck ends here, it's already in the books: three
games in a row. Just edging into the 'streak' category, but I will take
it.

As far behind in the standings as Toronto is, they seem to have been
putting on something of a revival over the last several weeks. Their poor
early season play probably sank their playoff hopes for good, but they
gave the ailing Tampa Bay Rays a run for their money over the weekend.
It's especially gratifying to see the Red Sox roll in and whup ass on the heels of
their rivals' humiliation. That doesn't mean I'm making any predictions or bold jinxy declarations--just trying to savor it as long it lasts.

Meanwhile, Dustin Pedroia watching the games from the dugout right now reminds me of a little dog choking itself on a leash. He sat perched on the very edge of the step in Toronto tonight, practically plopped onto the warning track -- as close as he physically could be to actually standing at second base.

Word has it he's set to bring shock and awe to Pawtucket this weekend. Much as I love Bill Hall after a night like tonight, Pedroia's return can't come a moment too soon for me, either.

August 09, 2010

Before this series began, predictions and declarations were made -- the Red Sox needed to take at least three out of four to have a meaningful remainder of the season, I heard at least one commentator say last Friday during the pregame show. The four-game set in the Bronx was hyped and framed as the whole enchilada, ball of wax, you name it, THIS WAS THE WHOLE SEASON, RIGHT HERE.

If they'd been swept, sure. I could see sticking in the proverbial fork after such a thing. And obviously winning the series would've been a huge boost to the ego, a solid enough foundation to build renewed optimism upon.

But reality, as usual, turned out to be somewhere in the middle, with a wild card (so to speak) thrown in.

The Sox took the first game of the series handily behind a solid outing from Clay Buchholz on Friday night, as footage of Dustin Pedroia running on the Yankee Stadium infield was shown. "Looking at him, you can tell he's still thinking about it," said Tito afterwards, reporting that Pedroia was found not to be game-ready after the brief set of sprints from one baseline to the middle of the infield.

And it's true. We were provided a closeup by NESN shortly after that quote from Tito, of Pedroia in conversation with a teammate behind the dugout fence, but looking away every so often toward the camera he didn't realize was zooming in. He stared off, clearly preoccupied, between the intermittent bursts of words tossed over his left shoulder toward whomever he was talking to, stroking the Youk-style beard he's grown.

Still. Being on schedule may feel behind schedule to Pedey, but it's encouraging for the rest of us. Combined with the win on Friday night, there was plenty of fuel for optimism as the weekend arrived.

On Saturday, which featured the weakest pitching matchup for the Sox going in -- Lackey / Sabathia -- the game most thought Boston would lose turned out as expected.

That, in turn, led to a dramatic showdown on Sunday night, with the pitcher you'd historically want most on the mound in such a game starting for us in Josh Beckett.

It's unfair, really, to put so much meaning onto a single game, as plenty of the groundwork for the team's tenuous position in the standings was laid well before it came down to this. It is even more unfair, I thought as I watched Beckett implode against the Yankee lineup again, to place THE ENTIRE REST OF THE SEASON on one particular pitching start. Does it really mean he's singlehandedly blown THE ENTIRE REST OF THE SEASON?

Still, it was difficult not to cast about for someone to blame as the Sox continued to take an embarrassing beating from the Bombers. Difficult not to quibble, for example, with a lineup that sat Mike Lowell while starting Kevin Cash, who made a boneheaded throw to third in the bottom of the fifth, tacking another run onto the Yankees' haul that inning.

Difficult, also, not to picture the faces that should've been there, and not to dwell on the woulda coulda shouldas. In that vein, I can only imagine what instincts seized Dustin Pedroia as he watched Bill Hall airmail a ball past V-Mart on what could've been a spectacular out in the bottom of the second. Or what might've been on Varitek or Youkilis' minds when Cash tossed the ball into left field*.

In the meantime, off in the Great White North, there was that wild card -- the Rays collapsed over the weekend in Toronto, losing five straight between last Wednesday and yesterday, including a sweep at the hands of the fourth-place Jays. Yesterday they even came close to being no-hit for what would've been the third time this season, only escaping that indignity vs. Brandon Morrow with two outs in the top of the ninth.

All of this rendered the series with New York much less significant, as the Red Sox retained their toehold in the Wild Card standings thanks to the Rays' losing streak. And then finally, today, behind 6 1/3 strong innings from Jon Lester, the Sox squeaked by with a series split in a 2-1 win.

And so, as momentous as this series was predicted to be, its outcome -- status quo, 6.0 games out of first place and 4.0 games out of the Wild Card -- leaves more questions than answers. And to tell you the truth, I'm not sure what's supposed to be decided here, even as I'm sure I've been made to feel as if something should be. Even if the Red Sox had gotten swept, meaning we could all officially "give up", what does that really mean, in the end? None of us watch baseball games for the rest of the summer? How unrealistic is that?

__________________________________________

* We had some clue about Pedroia's reaction last night, as ESPN's cameras
focused on a commotion in the Red Sox dugout. John Farrell had Pedroia
in a headlock next to the Gatorade coolers, clapping a hand over
Pedroia's mouth (well, actually, his entire face) and hollering
something at Tito, who approached with what could only have been a pithy
response. ESPN remarked that Pedroia is driving the coaching staff
crazy in the dugout**; I can believe it. Last night it looked like his
last ounce of self-restraint had given way, at least temporarily.

** Meanwhile, I have also wondered if the prominent
presence of Pedroia and Youkilis in the dugout following their injuries -- Pedroia has made
a point to travel with the team and take treatment wherever they happen
to be playing, and Youkilis will return to as soon as
possible following his hand surgery -- has been a kind of tacit
editorializing vis a vis Ellsbury-gate. I still find the suggestion that
Ellsbury was at fault for the team's losses earlier this month because he was absent when he could allegedly play a load of hogwash, but seeing Pedroia and Youk act as they have, I am willing to concede there
could also be a nugget of truth at the heart of all that drama.

August 06, 2010

While working late tonight, I took a break to check my Twitter feed, and I got the news about Youk.

I've been trying a new tack as an optimist this season (I know. It's weird.), but even I have to admit, at that moment the tiny flame of hope I've been keeping alive grew considerably dimmer. As it turns out, the Injury Bug saved its unkindest cut for last. Just a day after the prodigal Jacoby returned, the man who'd been a rock at the heart of the lineup while others fell around him all season had to leave the field for the rest of the year.

He'll remain in the dugout, and you can tell by his prominent presence and obvious order-giving there this week that he is a powerful figure among his teammates. Reports are that he may even make the road trip to New York after his surgery, for "moral support."

At least staying in the dugout means that his fanatical dedication, the thing I enjoy most about him, will still be there to see sometimes. I don't think a guy who practices his swing in nearly every free moment of every game knows any other way to be. If he has to spend the rest of the season in the dugout, he has already demonstrated, he is going to own and command that dugout. He will patrol it mercilessly and rule it with an iron fist. That's just how it seems to be with him.

***

Adrian Beltre continues to come out of his shell, in all his fierce, weird glory. Josh Tomlin had retired the first ten Sox hitters before Beltre finally stepped to the plate in the fourth with the bases loaded and sent one onto Lansdowne Street.

In contrast to Youk's military precision, Beltre has suddenly emerged this homestand as a single-minded maniac, whaling away with furious abandon on anything resembling a baseball, as well as anything that comes too close to his cranium.

To which I say, you go, Beltre. You go. But I gotta admit, the whole thing with V-Mart and your head is pretty hilarious.

***

I'm sure most of us would be lying if we said we'd expected boldness and dominance from Daisuke today, but that's exactly what he delivered. Once the tide turned after Beltre's slam, he settled into a nice groove, and left having crafted a shapely line of 8.0 IP, 5H 1 ER, 2 BB(!) and 6 K. It's kind of like finding 20 bucks. It might not solve all your problems, but you'll definitely take it, and it might even make your day.

***

I'd be emerging from this game much more confident if it hadn't been for the ninth inning, which began with a five run lead and wound up taking two freaking pitchers approximately eleventy dozen pitches and umpteen freaking baserunners to get out of. All so they could salvage a split at home against a weak team. That, combined with the loss of Youk, is not exactly filling me with great bravado looking ahead to a series in the Bronx.

Journey with me for a moment into the land of metaphor: the Red Sox remind me right now of an old jalopy, wobbling and swerving and limping on down the road. It just keeps chugging along somehow, even though by the looks of it a single mud puddle more, just the slightest of bad bounces over a rut in the road, and it'll totally fall apart. That's not in the instances on its zigzagging journey where it seems like it's going to completely crash and burn.

And now there it goes, bobbing and weaving its way to New York, where in all probability its ultimate fate will be decided. I appreciate its freakish level of perseverance, but I won't be holding my breath back here waiting for a miracle.

August 04, 2010

If there's one thing to be glad about with another loss tonight, it's that it cannot possibly be blamed on the fact that Jacoby Ellsbury was not in the lineup. And no, as it turned out, even with "all that prep time," Ellsbury did not return with a magical golden ticket to a winning streak, hidden away in his pocket the whole time. Unless we want to move into another whole realm of irrationality by asserting his play tonight was also a purposeful act of petulance.

Or then there's the always mystifying Jon Lester, who had another strange up-and-down evening in a strange up-and-down season, marked by multiple injury visits from Terry Francona before he was finally pulled with over 100 pitches in the top of the sixth. Lester had worked red-faced and dripping sweat the whole start, to the point where even his hat brim was soaked from where he'd grabbed it nervously between pitches, and he would keep up an oddly echoing pattern with the objectively less talented Justin Masterson from inning to inning. Both pitchers made groundouts
on the right-hand side of the field, and mainly gave up base hits up the left
field line. When they missed, they missed outside, despite their
opposite-handedness and regardless of whether they were throwing to left-handed or right-handed
hitters.

In the third inning, Lester had seemed
to be bending and flexing his left leg just slightly. That was the only
indication I caught -- so quick I wasn't sure if it was real or if I was
exaggerating things -- of any physical problem for Lester tonight before Francona, the trainer and Kevin Cash suddenly headed out to examine him on the mound in the top of the fifth. He had a brief discussion with Francona, while appearing to stretch his
left calf, threw a warmup pitch, and Francona exited again -- but Scott
Atchison began warming in the pen.

Francona again came rushing out after the first pitch of
the top of the sixth, to the shock and disgust of Lester, whose only
word as Francona approached was a stone-faced, "No." But his next pitch was hit by Jayson Nix off
the Fisk pole for a home run. After Andy Marte followed by singling to
left, Francona came hobbling out of the dugout for a third
time, and this time he would take Lester back with him.

The moody left-hander spent the next few innings glowering out of the dugout, alone on the bench with his thousand-yard stare.

Was it the
oppressive humidity, and thus the sweating and possibly dehydration
leading to a cramp that threw Lester off? The fact that this was his
first start as a new father, and 'home' to the team is not really 'home'
to him? Lester's home / road splits, as I recall, are in favor of the road this year
as a general pattern -- why is that?

Meanwhile, the Sox lineup made Masterson throw a lot of pitches, but the story for the Boston offense tonight was a familiar one -- the failure to capitalize with men on base. Not to mention Masterson, otherwise struggling mightily, playing the Sox tough again. It's probably just familiarity. I imagine if you come up with a club and
watch the lineup 162 games a season for a few years, you learn their
tendencies.

But that's not to say the Sox hitters covered themselves in glory, either. When Papi finally got the Sox on
the board with a solo homer leading off the bottom of the sixth, it had
been 14 innings since they had scored on Masterson, and that was to be the end of Boston's scoring for the night. The next few
innings were the kind of bullpen torchfest we've seen all too often this season, turning quickly into a blowout once Lester was lifted. And
now the best the Sox can hope for is a series split with another mediocre opponent.

________________

P.S.
My view of Adrian Beltre has changed as of this week. It used to be he was
sort of a blank slate to me. Now, after seeing him go house on V-Mart
for touching his head in the dugout and looking, as a coworker who
attended the game put it, "like he was going to rip off someone's head
and dump down their neck" during last night's beanball scuffle, not to
mention the fact that he's broken two of our outfielders' ribs with his
knee this season...I have come to realize, Beltre's a bad mofo. Possibly
a Timlin-esque level of batshit, too, what with the whole head-touching
issue, which is intriguing. Now, when he's shown on NESN's cameras, I prepare for riveting television to ensue.

Once again, "it could be worse" proves to be the proverbial famous last words.
I wrote that last night because even though the Sox had lost a frustrating game by a single run to a bad team (again, some more), at least we had not had to watch the "flower of our farm system" get his leg bent backwards.

The injury Cleveland catcher Carlos Santana suffered reminded me of Joe Theisman's famous gruesome injury at the hands of Lawrence Taylor, or of Willis McGehee's nasty leg-mangling in the Fiesta Bowl against Ohio State. At least we were not watching the few survivors of a trade deadline sell-off play out the string in the hopes of a youth revival, I reasoned, only to see the crown jewel of our prospects laid out in the dirt, writhing in agony.

Then I saw this:

And this:

Okay, I'm frustrated. Officially. Uncle. You got me. I am downright pissed off. The one thing I'd been holding onto all season was Youk. Good old, reliable, unhurt Youk. Always in the lineup. Sure, he'd get pegged with the ball now and then, as is his wont, but there he'd be, obsessively practicing his swing on the top step, out on the on-deck circle, and then in the batter's box, as steady in that routine as a cuckoo emerging from a clock, but maintaining an element of mystery by coming through with key hits and making fascinating changes to his facial hair. Many's the time I've thought to myself this season, At least we still have Youk.

And now this. Just when the others are coming back. Argh.

Admittedly I'm in a cranky mood already, baseball-wise, because while I was watching last night's demolition derby live and in high-definition, tonight I was reading elated Tweets saying the game had seen the best moment of the season with Mike Lowell's return and subsequent Monster shot, while I was far, far away from any remote chance of watching. Then, I heard Feisty Beckett made an appearance*. And where was I? Catatonically making a lengthy drive down I-95.

But...at least they won this time. And I can catch the highlights, then move on to hoping Ellsbury is actually going to be activated tomorrow, so maybe we can finally stop the insanity over his injury saga. At this point I care less about who's right or wrong than I care about the whole thing being over.

__________________

* Tonight's Beckett and Youkilis storylines came together in heartstring-tugging fashion as the dust settled on the shouting match. In the dugout, Youk patted Beckett on the belly with his bandaged hand, shooing him back down the steps when his ejection was handed down from the umpires.

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